The Case of Sherlock and Love
by thefangoddess
Summary: Sherlock has fallen in love with his flat mate and partner in solving crime, but does John feel the same way?
1. Distracted

John and I are working a case. A double murder! Two people killed at the same place, same time, but on different days! Exciting! John chuckles at my excitement and I can't help but blush. Luckily, John doesn't notice. I hear Lestrade say something but I'm not paying attention. My thoughts are clouded. Damn you John. I blink.

"How much sleep have you had this week Sherlock?" Lestrade asks me.

"Uh, 3 hours." I reply. It's true, I haven't slept much, but that's not the reason that I'm not paying attention.

"Go home Sherlock. We'll continue tomorrow." Lestrade tells me. I nod, but don't move. John sighs and grabs my arm, dragging me to a waiting cab. We sit down in the backseat and the cabby begins the drive tp 221B Baker St.

"Sherlock, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?" John asks. I turn to look at him his face is creased with worry lines.

"Tired I guess." I mumble, looking away. _Tired of being in love with you._ I think. I blink. I love John. I just admitted it. In my head sure, but I admitted it. I laugh. John raises an eyebrow but I quickly wave him away. I, Sherlock Holmes, am in love with my flat mate and partner in solving crime, John Watson.

We step inside the flat a few minutes later and I shrug my coat off and pull off my scarf, hanging them both on their hook. John sits down at his desk, turning on his laptop. I walk into the kitchen and put the bullet fragment on a microscope slide and put it under the lens. I peer into it and see something…I zoom the lens closer.

"Aha!" I exclaim. John looks up at me.

"What?" he asks.

"Poison John! Both victims were shot in the leg, correct?" John nods.

"You won't die from a shot to the leg though! The bullets were coated in poison!" I say excitedly. John chuckles, smiling.

"Sherlock, shouldn't you be sleeping?" he asks. I frown.

"Fine." I walk to my room and halt when I pass the stairwell to John's room. I think for a moment, then dash upwards. He'll think I did it just to irritate him. I unbutton my shirt and throw it into the corner of the room, then curl up in the middle of his bed. It smells like him, of his shampoo and cologne. It smells of John. I soon fall asleep.

I wake up a short time later to the sound of John's annoyed groans.

"Sherlock." he protests. I turn over and smile innocently up at him. John is trying to be angry, but when I smile at him he softens.

"You aren't going to leave are you?" he asks. I shake my head. He sighs.

"Well can you at least have the decency to scoot over?" he says. I scoot over slightly and he climbs under the covers with me. I turn to face him, our noses inches apart.

"Sherlock." John says.

"Yes John?" I reply, smiling slightly.

"Why are you blushing?" my eyes widen and I look away.

"Don't know." I mumble. John shifts slightly so that he is staring me in the eye.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" he asks, worry lines creasing his forehead again.

"Tired." I say, turning on my side and closing my eyes. I feel John lay back down.

"Goodnight Sherlock." he says quietly.

"Night." I mumble in reply, then fall back into the dark clutches of sleep.


	2. Nightmares

_**Sorry for the lack of updating, my computer kept crashing. Fortunately, I got a new one for Christmas :) hopefully I will be updating more frequently now.**_

Chapter 2

I wake up the next morning to find John's arms around me and I blush slightly, then pretend to be asleep.

"Sherlock...Sherlock don't. Sherlock!" John suddenly bolts upright in bed, almost knocking me off.

"John? John it's okay. I'm here." I say, confused, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. But John. He's breathing strangely and occasionally he'll make a whimpering sound.

"John?" I ask again. He turns around this time, and his eyes are red and puffy.

"Sorry." he mutters, looking down and standing up. "Just a nightmare." I watch him as he pulls a black and white striped jumper over his head and turns around to face me.

"Sherlock, go get dressed. Don't you have a case?" he asks tiredly. I nod slightly, then jump up. I dash from the room. When I come back into the kitchen, John is making tea.

"Good morning Sherlock." He says cheerily. He's pretending last night and this morning didn't happen.

"John, what was your dream about?" I ask softly. He freezes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." he finally replies, unfreezing.

"Yes you do." I argue. John turns to glare at me.

"I don't want to talk about it." He says firmly.

"You said my name. I think I deserve an explanation."

"No. You really don't."

"John-"

"No!" he shouts suddenly, slamming his fists down on the table. I flinch.

"Why not?" I ask quietly.

"Because...because you wouldn't understand." John says, his anger leaving as quickly as it had come.

"I could try." I say, my becoming even more quiet. John sighs.

"I dreamed of you jumping. Off of St. Bart's." he finally says, pain evident in his voice. I fight back the urge to tell him how ridiculous it is to be worried about that, considering I'm back and alive and well.

"I'm sorry." I say instead, surprising even myself. "I knew that would be hard for you...I just maybe didn't realize _how_ hard."

"Sherlock...did I just hear you apologize?"

"Oh shut up." I mutter, standing up and walking towards the door, pulling my scarf and coat on as I walk out. I hear him chuckle and follow me.

"You're impossible to figure out." He mutters.

"That's the idea." I reply. He laughs.

"Sherlock Holmes, you will be the death of me. Now let's go see about those murders."


End file.
